Angel
by PoorLenore
Summary: Just because Angie's new to Brooklyn doesn't mean she's gonna let them push her around. She's got a few changes to make, but what happens when she falls for one of the people she's fighting? SpotOC. Please read before judging.
1. Chapter 1

Ello all! This will be my second fic (first one in a long time), so, unless it turns out so bad that this is utterly impossible, try to be nice. I have not always been the greatest writer, but I love it anyway. Kinda like the horrible singer who won't stop. Also, since there were absolutely no girl newsies in the movie at all, I am entertaining the idea that they weren't allowed to be newsies.

Disclaimer: I do not own Newsies. I _wish _I owned Spot Conlon (who doesn't?), but I don't, so I must digress.

Chapter 1

The sun rose over Brooklyn like any normal day, though what could be considered normal for Brooklyn might not be considered normal for the rest of the country. It had started low in the sky, making it look so close you could touch it. By the time it had moved a few feet, or what looked like a few feet to the people watching, it had already lit up the bridge. But that was early in the morning. That was when Angie and her girls had first come to the newspaper distributor. By now, it was already halfway to the top of the sky, and she was still standing there, arguing with the man behind the bars. He wasn't much older than her, but she could tell by the way he looked, and by the way he talked to her, that he was a greasy little scab.

"Look, I already told you. I don't give papes to girls!"

"And I already asked you why, but, apparently, you're hearin' ain't so good!" Angie raised her voice for the umpteenth time.

"Look, why don't you go on home and learn to cook and clean like a good little girl." he smirked, emphasizing the words 'good little girl'.

She wanted to punch him. She would've, too, if not for the commotion she heard in the back of her group. Running a hand through her bright cherry-colored hair, she turned to a girl standing behind her. "Mid," Angie asked, using the nickname that she had called her ever since they were little girls. "Can you take over here? Maybe you'll have better luck with the pig." Midnight, which was what 'Mid' was short for, nodded and moved aside to let Angie through, which was hard considering they were a packed crowd and, even though she wasn't heavy, Angie was well built.

It was easy to see how Midnight got her nickname. She was the same age as Angie, fifteen, but they were genetic opposites. Midnight's ebony hair, and dark brown eyes gave her the look of a person standing outside at night, while Angie's bright red hair and green eyes had the opposite effect. Even when it was the middle of the day, Mid would look like she was forever trapped in darkness. The dark pants she wore helped, also.

_Lots of the girls wear guy clothes_, Angie thoughtlessly noticed while walking through the small group. She stood out for the shear fact that she was one of the few who were wearing skirts. Granted they weren't normal skirts. It was hard to run in the long ones, and since runnin' was what they were doing, they needed to fix that. The solution? Just rip the skirts up. Not all the way, but just tear off the fabric to up above the shins. So, now her and about two other people were walking around in knee-length skirts. It certainly got them plenty of strange looks from the older women, but what did they care?

By the time Angie got halfway through the group of about ten girls, she could see the line of boy newsies forming behind them. _Of course, _she thought. Just what she needed. More guys. She could see the fight, now, too. It was between a short, thin-framed girl who also had red hair, and a slightly taller, more muscular boy. _Red, what're you doin' now,_ Angie thought with a frown. Thankfully, it hadn't progressed to fists before she got there. For now, it was just a shouting match.

"Hey! Hey! Break it up!" Angie yelled, using her hands to seperate them. The boy backed down while giving them a dirty look, but Red was still pushing against Angie's hand, trying to get a swing at the boy. A quick shove stopped that.

"Red, what the hell are you thinkin!" Angie glared down at her sister, which was hard to do considering she was only about an inch shorter than Angie.

"But they were talkin' 'bout us, Ang! I had to do somethin'!" Red explained, then folded her arms over ther chest when Angie gave her a stern look.

"Look, I told you I didn't want no fightin', so why don't you listen to me for a change?" Angie gently pushed her back in between Maggie and Liza. Two older girls who were ready to keep an eye on her.

"Maybe you should get a muzzle for her." said a snide voice behind her, accompanied by several laughs.

Angie turned around to face a boy two feet from her. She would've described him as short, but he was the same height as her, so she had no right to judge. She couldn't see his hair, it was hidden by a hat, but she could see his face, and it had a smirk on it.

"Just shut your mouth." She wasn't in the mood to deal with any cocky guys and their attitude. She was about to turn around when she heard him speak again.

"Go on home, goily. Go do housework." More laughs from the crowd. Now he was just trying to provoke her. It worked.

She moved up until she was an inch from him. "Look, I'd take my advice and shut your mouth before it gets you into trouble." From her experience, most guys backed down when challenged, but this one seemed to be the exception.

"Oh, yeah? Why?" he challenged back, that same smirk showing.

Since Angie was close to him, she could now tell that he was undeniably cute. Handsome, even. He had icy blue eyes that seemed to bring his face together and make it look almost heavenly. But not even the angelic blue eyes could stop her temper. Before she knew it, her fist was flying. It connected with his right eye, with a thud she thought only she heard.

She could see that he was stunned as he fell back a step, but it didn't last long. Pretty soon, his fist was coming towards her. It hit, but only her lip. She could tell there was an emotion behind that punch, like normal, but it wasn't rage. What could it be? Excitement? No way. Sadness? Maybe. Humiliation? Probably. Though humiliation and rage go hand in hand, and it would be hard to find one without the other.

They got a couple more swings in before being broken up. By cops or scabs, Angie didn't know and didn't care. None of the latter swings hit, which she was thankful for. She didn't need a broken nose, or anything else for that matter, to draw more stares from people. Turning her back on the boy, she saw her sister's slightly horrified, slightly triumphant look that told her she had blood on her face, and that Red would never let her forget how much of a hypocrite she was. The blood was from her lip. She could taste it. The hypocritical part she knew, but wouldn't admit it, especially to her little sibling

Grabbing her sister's hand, she started to leave, shoving violently past the people who tried to get in her way. She would leave it to Midnight and the others to get the papes. Right now, she just wanted to get out of here.

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So? Any comments? Suggestions? Praises? I'll be happy to take them all, especially the last one. You've already read, so remember to review!


	2. Chapter 2

Yay! Second chapter! Apparently, you all liked the first one enough to review! Thank you so much, by the way.

Disclaimer: I don't own Newsies. I am trying desperately to buy Spot, but the Disney people are very greedy. If anyone wants to donate money, I'll share!... Maybe.

Chapter Two

As it turns out, Midnight didn't have any more luck with the scab than Angie did. They had come back to the apartment deflated, so Angie didn't press for details. They kept themselves amused by playing cards and any other game they could think of. Suprisingly, it kept them busy until night. Angie was pretty sure it had something to do with how many arguments they had started in the few games they played. They could normally get along, but when it came to winning, everyone was competitive, so everyone fought. Though the fights never ended in someone getting hurt, and they did resolve themselves eventually, despite the guilty parties not talking to each other for about an hour, they took up a lot of time, which Angie was glad for.

It was dark now, and Angie was the only one still awake. Sitting on the fire escape, she enjoyed the breeze and silence, especially after the day she'd had. Looking behind her, she could see her friends sleeping through the window. It was amazing that they could all fit in that tiny apartment. They managed, sort of like all the circus clowns fitting into the tiny car. But it was alright. It was the same, if not better, than the sleeping arrangements at the orphanage. Thinking back to the wretched place, Angie got a bad taste in her mouth.

She turned around and went back to staring at the city. Even if the girls didn't like it, they would have to suck it up. With the little money they had saved, this was all they could afford. The thought of money in her head made her let out a groan. They would have to find some way to earn money soon, or they wouldn't be able to afford even this dinky place. _Tomorrow's another day, _she thought as she got up and went to get some sleep.

Sadly, tomorrow turned out to be a lot like yesterday. Besides Angie punching someone, which didn't happen since the jerk that was here before was gone and all the other guys were more than a little afraid of her, nothing changed. The scabber behind the bars still didn't give them papes, though he told them that from a further distance now. None of the other girls were successful in convincing him, so all they could do was leave, but not quietly. They pushed their way out, some muttering under their breath, even more yelling.

Instead of going back to the apartment for another fun filled night of arguing, Angie decided they could all use a little pick me up. So, she she led them across the bridge.

The Manhattan newsies had always been their favorite. They were the only ones not pig-headed enough to accept them. Many of the younger girls wondered why they didn't just stay in Manhattan, but Angie knew that there were already enough newsies there, on account of Jack being so nice. Manhattan couldn't handle anymore.

Walking into Tibby's, Angie took in the comforting sight of friends.

"Well, well, well. If it ain't da newsettes." She heard Jack's voice over the crowd, and looked around for him. As usual, he was in the back waving at them. She was the only one to walk over, as the rest of the group had fanned out. Midnight, Betty, Maggie, and a few others had gone to find Racetrack to see if they could finally beat him in a game of cards. The younger ones, including Red, had gone to find Crutchy. For some reason, Crutchy had made it his hobby to tell the young girls outrageous stories that he had either made up, or heard only bits and peices of and filled in the blanks himself.

As Angie crossed the resteraunt, she saw unfamiliar faces, but chalked it up to her being absent for a while. Jack met her halfway, with a grin on his face. After doing the normal spit-shake, Jack started the conversation. "It ain't like yah to stay away for so long. Where've yah been all dis time?" he inquired.

"You've never cared before, why the sudden change of heart?" Angie smiled back. It was nice to see Jack again. He had always been like an older brother to her.

"Maybe I'm just worried about da head newsette. Yah've been known to get into your fair share of trouble. The busted lip proves my point." They both laughed at the remembered thought of Angie being as prone to fighting as Red was now. "Come on. I trust yah remember where da table is."

He was right. She had been here enough to know where he usually sat. When she got close, she could see another person sitting. He had his head down and was looking at the table, but his hat seemed oddly familiar.

"Angie, Spot. Spot, Angie." Jack lazily introduced him. When he heard them approach, he looked up.

_No fuckin way,_ she thought, frowning.

Under the hat was the same face that had met with Angie's fist just yesterday, and she wasn't the only one to realize it. The look on Spot's face told her that he hadn't forgotten, either. He stood up abruptly and removed a gold tipped cane from his belt loop. Angie prepared herself for another fight. Fortunately, Jack also saw it and stood in the way. "Both of youse, sit down!"

Angie pulled out her chair and sat, still glaring. Spot was slower, but eventually followed when Jack motioned to the chair.

"Now, what was dat about?" Jack asked, looking to both of them.

Angie was the one to answer. "Let's just say we met before."

"Hold on," Jack said, turning to Spot. Understanding had crossed his face, and Angie guessed that Spot had already told Jack about their encounter. "Angie is da 'crazy goil' who gave yah dat shiner?" She was right.

Angie looked up to see that it was true. His right eye was a mixed color of blue and black. She mentally smirked. When Spot finally answered with an annoyed 'yeah', Jack actually started to laugh. Spot turned to glare at him, but Jack was already looking at Angie. "And the busted lip was Spot?"

Angie just nodded while Jack laughed more. Seeming even mored annoyed, Spot reached up and took off his hat, tossing it onto the table. Angie nearly stopped breathing. What the hat hid was the most beautiful head of hair she had ever seen in her life. It was a dirty blonde, and it made his face even more heavenly. Angie caught herself staring and looked down to the table, chiding her eyes for disobeying.

It took several minutes before Jack's laugh died down. Though, when he spoke next, he still had a grin on his face. "Well, dat's a strange turn of events. I was expectin you two to be real close."

Angie's look of shock mirrored Spot's. "Why the hell would you think that!" they asked, almost simultaneously, accompanied by glares at each other.

"Dat's why. Maybe youse can't see how alike you both are, but everyone else can. You two are like twins seperated at birth." Jack explained. Angie was starting to see his point, especially when both she and Spot folded their arms over their chest and looked away. But she still wasn't inclined to admit it.

"Look, da fact still remains dat both of you are in Brooklyn. I know Spot's not gonna leave, and neither will Angie, especially if someone don't want her there. So, why don't you try gettin along? I don't think it would hurt." When neither person said anything, Jack went on. He wasn't usually this persistent, and Angie wondered what could make him this interested.

"Spot," he leaned forward and put both his elbows on the table as Spot turned to look at him. "You were just tellin me dat some of da scabs had gotten cocky and picked a couple fights with your guys. Angie and her girls could help."

"We got enough help." was his response, and anyone with half a brain could recognize the venom in his voice.

"You know dat's a lie. Da bulls have been comin down on you hard lately, and more than half your guys are in jail." Angie was quietly sitting back in her seat, waiting to see what else would come up in this strange conversation. She was slightly enjoying watching the strange show.

"What makes you think she would even fight a scab? How do you know she won't start workin for 'em?" Spot finally said, leaning forward also.

"She fought you, didn't she?" Jack pointed out with a smirk. "And you'll never have to worry about dat. Angie is as loyal to a scab as a cat is loyal to a mouse."

At that, she had to agree. She would rather chew off her own skin than be forced to work with a scabber. But Angie had been silent long enough. "What makes you think I would even want to help him?"

They looked a little surprised at the sound of her voice. Most likely, they had forgotten she was here. _Typical, _she thought, but kept looking at Jack who she had directed the question to.

Jack just sighed and shook his head. "I don't know what is wrong with you both. So you got in a little fight. Big deal. Why do you hate each other?" He leaned back and looked at them, waiting for a response. Several reasons went through Angie's head, but none of them seemed good enough to satisfy Jack. After an awkward moment which consisted of Jack staring at them the entire time, Spot grabbed his hat off the table and stood up.

"I got bettah things to do." he mumbled, and started for the door. Out of the corner of her eye, Angie saw two other boys stand up and follow him. Realizing that he wasn't going to get an answer, at least not today, Jack gave up and started small talk with Angie.

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I would like to take this time to warn my readers that in the later chapters, I will be talking about Spot's hair a lot more. I just love that great mop of hair too much to ignore it. I hope this chapter didn't go to quickly, as I was trying my best to steer away from that. If it did, please tell me and I will try to do better on the next one. Hopefully, I will be updating again within a week, so keep an eye out! You know the drill. Click the little button that says review. It will make me very happy.


	3. Chapter 3

Wow. I'm already on the third chapter. I am so happy that people like this story! And as long as people keep reviewing, I will keep writing... until the story ends, I run out of ideas, or I get killed and/or horribly maimed in a gruesome accident. If none of that happens, expect new chapters!

Disclaimer: Ok, apparently, just because Walt Disney is a frozen head being held somewhere in the deep Arctic waiting to be thawed and cured of whatever disease he had, doesn't mean he will give up the rights to _Newsies_ without a fight. I still don't own it.

Chapter 3

It had been night once again when they had gotten back from Manhattan. Once again, Angie had been the only one to stay awake, saying good night to the last girl about an hour ago. She knew she wouldn't be able to sleep, so she didn't bother wasting time trying. For at least another week, she would have to follow the vampiric schedule that her body somehow got hooked on.

Feeling cramped in the apartment, she grabbed her notebook and pencil from the nightstand and headed to the docks.

Angie didn't know where the urge to draw came from, but once she picked up a pencil, she couldn't stop. It had become a second nature to her. No matter what kind of mood she was in, she could always find something to draw. This time, sitting on the docks, her feet dangling over the water, was no different.

The docks probably weren't the safest place to be at night, but she felt relatively sure in the fact that she could fend for herself. Besides, there wasn't anyone around. Opening her notebook, she started to sketch.

Then she started to think about her conversation with Jack.

Had he meant what he said about her and Spot becoming close? Did he really think that would've happened? She hoped he knew her better than that. Spot was a jerk. A macho, chauvinistic, loves-himself-too-much jerk. But, then again...

Angie had only talked to him for a short amount of time. Who was she to judge him? Maybe he just acted like that as a show. She had seen it before. Hell, Jack had acted like that the first time he had met her. But Angie had gotten close to him and learned that it was just a front. A mask he wore. How did she know that wasn't the case with Spot? Could she ever find out?

Angie sighed, and fleetingly wondered why this one particular guy made herself ask so many questions she didn't have the answer to. _Get ahold of yourself, _she thought. _He means nothing to you. _

As if fate had decided to take upon itself to put her foot in her mouth, she looked down and saw what she had been mindlessly sketching. A pair of eyes stared at her from the otherwise blank page. Even though they had none of their magnificent blue color, she could recognize who they belonged to. _You'll probably never even see him again, _her mind tried to reason with her.

"Well, look who's up past her bedtime." There goes fate and her foot again.

Angie quickly snapped the notebook shut, and turned to face the owner of the voice. Once again, Spot was standing not two feet from her, leaning on one of the many poles that held the dock up. How had he snuck so close without her hearing?

"Well, look who was let out of his cage." she said, mimicking his tone and turning back towards the water. It seemed to be easier to think when she wasn't looking at him.

A short silence passed between them. It felt like hours. Spot was the one to break it, though he voice was so low Angie wasn't sure if she had heard it.

"It's nice out here, ain't it?"

"What?" she asked, turning back to look at him once again. If his voice was still low, maybe she had a chance of reading his lips. But when she turned, she was met by the astonishing blue eyes that were also in her notebook, only these were all the more amazing for the simple fact that they were real. Any chance of reading his lips had flown away.

"I just said it's nice out here." He took a step towards her, closing the already small space between them. "It's peaceful, 'specially when dere's no one ta screw it up."

Angie was taken aback. Was Spot trying to make small talk? The fact made her inwardly shudder, but, oddly, she liked it. He seemed like he was waiting for a confirmation, or something along those lines, but Angie just found herself saying "Ok. Did you come out here with a point, or to just make small talk?"

It had come out a lot harsher than she wanted. She mentally kicked herself when he seemed to back away.

"Well, I did come out here ta discuss our little problem," Spot started to get defensive. "But if yah don't want me here, I guess I'll leave." He turned to go.

Still kicking herself, Angie forced herself to say "No, wait. I'm sorry." It felt weird to say those words. She had barely said them at all in her life.

Spot stopped. _Probably wondering if his hearing is going bad, _she thought bitterly. "What's on your mind?" She didn't have to force herself to be sincere, she actually wanted to know what he was thinking. It, along with several other feelings that were attacking her now, was alien.

He hesitated, doubtlessly thinking whether or not it was a trap and that, as soon as his guard was down, Angie would push him into the river to drown. But he seemed to work past that thought, and sat down next to her, resting his arm on one leg and letting the other hang off the dock. Angie turned towards him, folding her legs under her.

"Well, I was thinking about what Kelly said."

Angie was once again mesmerized by him, and it took her a minute to register who Kelly was. Realizing it was Jack, she laughed quietly to herself. Not so quietly, for Spot gave her a strange look, but her saying "And?" seemed to remind him that he wasn't finished talking.

"And... he may on ta somethin'. I have been low on newises lately."

Once again, he seemed to have the power to completely shock her. Spot was asking for her help? She had to say it several times in her mind before it rung true.

The silence that once again accompanied their conversation gave Angie time to think. Maybe Jack had been right. Maybe her and Spot were twins. They seemed to be proving it more now than ever. At first, Angie was surprised that Spot was trying to make small talk. Then Spot was shocked that Angie didn't let him leave. Now, Angie marveled at the thought that Spot was asking for help, let alone help from her. Also, they both seemed to be a little awkward with the conversation, aloways expecting it to turn into a fight, and never expecting one to be nice to the other. So, either they were alike, or they were very easy to surprise.

It then occured to her. An answer for Jack's question, why did they hate each other? She didn't think they did. Sure, they weren't the best of pals, but hate was too strong of a word. But they didn't get along because they _were_ similar. Too similar.

It actually made sense. If the saying 'opposites attract' was true, then it must mean 'similarites repel'. The thought of pointing that out to Jack the next time she saw him made her smirk, but it was quickly gone. Another thought, one of her and Spot "repeling" each other, had made a sense of gloom settle on her shoulders.

"All right." Angie spoke, realizing she would have to say something eventually.

Spot's head shot up, her voice probably taking him out of his own deep thoughts. He just nodded, still not wanting to admit he was asking for assistance.

"There's a little problem, though." Angie started again. "Believe it or not, you weren't the only newsie who thought that girls should stay at home." She was referring to the many other boys who seemed to have a problem with them being there, only most not as vocal as Spot.

Spot smirked, and Angie's heart fluttered. "You just leave dem ta me." She would have to trust him.

Feeling the conversation was done, they both stood, but only Angie started walking back towards the city. She was just about to pass Spot when he seized her arm and pulled her towards him, his lips meeting hers.

It seemed cliche'd when she would hear about a kiss that 'felt like it lasted forever', but know she knew what they were talking about. Before she could think on it any longer, Spot pulled away. Without a word, he turned and walked quickly back to Brooklyn, leaving Angie just standing there, doubting her sanity.

Without consent, her mind traveled back to the last words her and Jack had said. He had brought it up right before they were leaving, so she hadn't had time to interrigate him.

"You know, me and the guys have a bet goin'." He smirked.

"On what?" Angie inquired.

"On when you and Spot are gonna get togethuh."

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I am so sorry! I know that took a long time! I was having more trouble than I anticipated. Another big shout-out to David Bowie, who singlehandedly saved this chapter from the deepest, darkest pits of forgotten fanfiction! Go Bowie! This is another chapter that I'm worried went too fast, but I was just dying for them to kiss. Weird, I know.

Also, I know Angie may seemed more like a fangirl in this chapter, but you have to remember, this is being written by a fangirl. Expect Spot to be complimented on his looks A LOT. But, I will keep a plot, instead of it being "I love Spot", "Spot's so hot", etc., etc. Another also, it may be just my extremely messed up mind and the fact that I never payed attention, but I just realized yesterday that Spot and hot rhyme. I think it's more than a coincidence. Forgive me. This is what becomes of me from only having seven hours of sleep in a 48 hour period.

Review! I'll give you Spot! Yeah, right. If I had Spot, I would keep him for myself. But, I will update! Doesn't that make you wanna review? Please say yes.


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